


Lady Gaga's Got Nothing on Her

by cailures



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 10:24:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11872371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cailures/pseuds/cailures
Summary: Leia and Han while away their first evening on Cloud City with Lando, a few hands of sabacc, and suspicions about loyalty.





	Lady Gaga's Got Nothing on Her

**Author's Note:**

> FOR #1

Leia poked her head out of the large walk-in, dress clutched to her chest, and narrowed her eyes at Han. He lay on the bed, plucking idly at the embroidered duvet. His boots were just on the cusp of actually being off the bed, but not quite, and they’d already left a soot, greasy, Falcon-y streak on the corner where they caught.

Lando would be delighted. Not that she cared what Lando was or was not delighted by.

“I’m not saying we buy a pad here,” Han replied, huffing when he caught her expression. “Just… lay low. For a while.”

Leia’s eyebrows rose skyward involuntarily. She didn’t know why she was surprised that Han was a man who would, without self-effacing sarcasm, refer to an apartment home as a “pad.” Rich considering his otherwise deep and broad well of insincerity.  
“What’s wrong with laying low?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said curtly.

Leia turned back into the closet, discarding the dress to the floor without another thought. She had the impulse to close the door behind her and fought back against it, realizing it would come off petty, come off like she was doing it because they were arguing and not because there was a knob of uncertainty settled in her chest, excitement and fear both, when she thought of Han stepping into the closet with her, warm body pressed close.

Or even not. Just standing, talking, casually observing her nakedness with the intimacy of years. Intimacy they didn’t have and she’d never experienced.  
She heard him move, sheets rustling, exaggerated groan as if levering himself upright was difficult. His shadow fell behind her as he leaned in the door.

“What’s got your hackles up?” Han asked. “The Empire? Lando?”

Yes to both, but they’d already been over that.

And if she was really that worried, why was she standing in a closet, staring at a dozen beautiful dresses, wet hair pinned up after a luxurious water shower, instead of stealing the closest functioning ship? She knew better than this. She knew to enjoy the moments of downtime she had, to use the resources on offer, and to put fear out of her mind until she had reason to act on it.

“Nothing,” she said again, at this time she actually meant it. She turned to Han and tilted her head, gently telling him to get the hell out and let her dress already.

He was disobedient as ever.

“I like the blue one.”

Leia rolled her eyes. She didn’t like that one at all, and not just because swanning around in a floor length, sparkling gown wasn’t on her agenda for the evening.

“I’m sure Lando does too,” she needled, reaching for a simple white dress. There was a burnt red-orange shell to go with it she’d spied in the back, but for now, there was something nice to Alderaanian white.

That had been one of the few advantages to snowbound Hoth.

She shimmied into the dress and Han made himself useful, fastening the back as she held her hair out of the way. He took a moment to stroke her neck and Leia bit her lip, eyes closing.

“It’s so bad being here?” he asked. “Out of the trenches, Empire far away?”  
“Off the Falcon, with enough room to breathe?”

Han made an aggrieved noise.

“She’s not that cramped.”

“Oh no. Positively spacious. I can almost stretch without hitting my knuckles on the ceiling.”

“What I want to know is where the nice princesses are,” Han complained. “The ones who like being rescued.”

“Not Alderaan,” Leia snapped and immediately regretted it.

Han slipped his hands around her waist; Leia leaned back into him, grateful to feel his arms tighten around her. It would never be anything less than raw, but now she had him, had this. It helped.

He wasn’t wrong. Cloud City was beautiful and spending a few moments out of the Empire’s grasp to regroup was worthwhile. Her unease had little to do with what they were doing and far more to do with what they weren’t doing – they weren’t fighting, they weren’t undercover, and they weren’t planning their next move. For all Leia knew, Han had no intention of returning to the Rebellion. It was what he’d said back at the base.

Han was concertedly not making a choice. He didn’t have to leave Leia, drop her at the nearest Alliance rendezvous and jet off to pay Jabba, and he didn’t have to admit how deep he was in with the Rebellion.

“What about Luke?”

“What?”

Leia felt Han jolt. He broke apart from her, hands on his hips as he glared down at her in irritation. 

“You aren’t worried about him?”

“That’s low.”

It was. She was asking him to say that Luke could handle whatever no doubt awful situation he’d gotten himself into as the “adventure” magnet he was. It was especially cruel, given that Leia had a deep sense of surety that Luke was actually fine – wherever he was, he was safer than they were.

“We’re no good to him dead,” Han settled on after a long moment of internal warfare between his desires to neither admit Luke was an adult nor that Leia might be right. “And that’s what we’ll be if we go out there without a plan.”  
Leia nodded.

“So, let’s plan.”

Han growled briefly. He’d lived too long with a Wookiee.

***

Leia wasn’t any less worried about Lando, but she could admit he was excellent company. She wasn’t even all that drunk.

Which couldn’t be said of Han.

Several Correllian brandies deep into the after dinner sabacc game, he’d draped himself across Lando, ostensibly to cheat at cards, but probably mostly to prevent himself from sliding to the floor.

Leia would be jealous if she weren’t aware of just how heavy Han was.

“So, you're a true believer, then?” Lando asked. He raised his eyes slowly from his cards, charming smile flashing white as he laid down one card and drew another. “No chance I can... win you away?”

“From the Rebellion?” Leia asked bluntly. She passed on taking another card, shuffling them again in her hand, thumb hovering over the key to resort her wild card. She either had a flush or nothing and would rather not find out until the end.

“No chance,” Han slurred.

His cards were on the table, face down. With one fumbling finger, he drew a card off the far edge and picked a new one, throwing in lazily onto his hand. It fell face up: Queen of Air and Darkness.

“She's a true believer.”

Leia felt a twinge of annoyance at the tone Han took, conspiratorial and disappointed as he confided to his closest human friend that his girlfriend had, of all things, ideals.

“One of those,” Lando affected surprise as he glanced to where Han rested his head on Lando's shoulder, “and you?”

“Maybe I found my inner idealist.”

Leia narrowed her eyes.

Lando's laugh was rich and deep. He threw his head back – not coincidentally dislodging Han, who looked ruffled, sad, and very sexy at the disturbance – and grinned, wiping his hand across his brow. He slapped his hand onto the table, laughing again, before settling back and cocking he head in Leia's direction.

“And you believe this scoundrel?”

“No,” she said harshly. “I don't.”

Han wasn't too drunk to know when he'd gone too far. In fact, Leia didn't think he was as drunk as he acted, but he was slow to gather himself together, not breaking the drunk act for a moment.

“Hey,” he said, looking hurt.

“You're not the one who was just insulted,” Leia reminded him.

He opened his mouth and Lando smoothly interceded.

“Now – that's going a bit far. I'd never insult a lady such as yourself. And crass as Han is, he knows better too.”

She met his eyes.

“I know the contempt you have for idealists. I even understand why,” she pronounced. She put on a nice, broad smile. “And I also accept apologies – when they are offered.”

Han rubbed his hand over his face.

“I'm sorry, okay?”

Lando wasn't so quick to comply.

“Ah. I call.”

He laid his cards down, spreading them with dexterous fingers. Leia hit the resort key and watched as her card flashed through the possibilities. With an idle shrug, she set the cards down so the men could watch as it settled to an Ace of Staves, perfectly completing her flush. Han pulled a face and groaned.

“Nah, don't. Don't bother.”

He simply shuffled his cards back together, tossing them toward the discard bin set into the table. Two plunked down to be taken back up by the dealer droid, while the other three remained on the table, strewn but not revealed.

“She's got awful luck,” Han said. “Awful and too good. Worst person to play sabacc with.”

It was true. Luke was luckier, but also so honest and revealing in his expressions that his preternatural abilities were easy enough to navigate around. Leia had diplomacy and spycraft to aid her.

Lando smiled and tipped his head to her.

“I'll enjoy finding that out first hand.”

Leia raised her eyebrows. Han minded the flirtation far more than she did, scowling at his friend even as he leaned on him. She was suspicious of Lando – and it was obvious he thought his charm would smooth that over – but this too was a game she was good at. As a princess of Aldereaan, she'd had little use for flirtatious political byplay. It just didn't feature in court politics. As a spy of the Rebellion, however, there was some use in learning to exploit the wandering eyes of Moffs and distract them with a pretty smile.

“You will definitely be quite experienced by the end of this evening … in losing, at least.”

Lando shrugged and his cape rippled.

“That would be quite refreshing. I so rarely do. And I can't imagine,” Lando leaned forward, unbalancing Han and forcing him to sit upright under his own power. Lando's hand brushed Leia's and she felt a frisson of electricity. She steeled herself and looked deeper into his warm eyes, ignoring how very nice his attention actually was. “I can't imagine that I won't enjoy every second of it.”

“Hey now – hey!” Han snapped. He looked quite grumpy. “Enough of that. Deal or get a room.”

Lando stood and extended his hand to Leia. Han immediately slapped it down.

“Fine, I'll deal.”

Han hit a button on the table and rather than the cards dispensing from the droid shuffler, an entire deck extended up. He shuffled and bridged the cards aggressively before tossing them, hard, at Leia, Lando, and himself in turn.

“So. Lando. How about the Empire, eh?” Han said as he hit Lando in the chest with a card.

Smooth as Lando was, he did fumble the card, showing it as a Two of Swords before he could recover and place it, with dignified aplomb, down into his pile. Leia considered that it may be a purposeful fumble. It hardly mattered.

“Bad for business when they come to call, which thankfully isn't often. So. How about that Rebellion?”

Han looked more satisfied with himself than usual.

“Trudging along. Couple people I know who make it a worthwhile cause. Why, you thinking of joining up?”

If Han thought that was a good defense of the Rebellion or himself, he was mistaken. But unsubtle as the prompt was, Leia couldn't let it go to waste.  
Lando licked the corner of his thumb and switched his cards around. He took a moment to swipe along his mustache, caught more in thought about his hand than Han's question, and then blinked wide at his friend, feigning surprise.

“Me? I don't think there's much call for city administrators in the Rebellion. Do you, Princess?”

“No,” Leia said to humor him. “But there wasn't much call for princesses either.”  
Han gestured to her with both hands, displaying his victory. His cheeks were quite flushed from drink, but Leia didn't think he'd be doing all that much better sober.  
“So tell me,” Leia started sweetly. “If I'm the idealist and you're the scoundrel, why defend the Alliance? Shouldn't you be thrilling to Lando winning me away?”

“Are those the stakes?” Lando asked.

Han's scowl was back.

“Yeah. What he said.”

“I didn't make this game. That's all on you two.”

“Lady makes a fair point. A 'couple of people', eh?”

Lando elbowed Han playfully.

“You know what I mean,” he told Leia. His hazel eyes were honest, for once. He'd blame the drink tomorrow. “You do.”

She decided against giving him the relief of telling him she did know.  
“I don't think she does, old friend.”

“Well, she should,” Han said belligerently. He picked up his brandy and finished it off. “And if you're going to win her away, have at it! Give it your all! She likes men who believe in things,” he added, half conspiratorially and half accusatory.  
Leia did.

“If that's a swipe at --”

Han leaned forward, finger out to stop her from bringing up Luke.

“No! It's Lando's turn. He's got to tell you what he believes in so you can swan off to be at his side and drink cloud champagne all day while the rest of us fight the Empire!”

“You're not making any sense,” Leia told him. She pushed his hand down until it brushed the table and he stared at it, no doubt wondering how it got there. Or no, his eyes were locked on her hand, too small to cover the entire back of his hand. His eyes shot back up when she cleared her throat, willing him to forget that first kiss on the Falcon. “I would still be fighting. You can drink the cloud champagne – alone if you want.”

“I don't?” Han said in confusion.

He was muddling the attempt to extract information from Lando so she looked away, back to the very handsome man in question.

Lando flicked his eyes to his cards.

“Two hundred,” he bet. He depressed the table on the table that entered the bet formally. It was all a bit of nonsense because Leia and Han didn't have any money, and definitely weren't opening accounts with Lando's bank of Lando, Cloud City backed though it was.

And wasn't she the stake in this game anyway?

“Han, your bet,” Leia prompted.

He hadn't looked at his cards yet. He crossed his arms obstinately over his chest.  
“Raise. Three hundred.”

“Five hundred. We could use these credits,” Leia told Lando, “If you'll honor them.”

He looked uncomfortable with her word choice, which was telling enough. She didn't expect him to suddenly decide real money was on the line. She'd take it if he did, of course, but she was no fool.

“I'm sure you – and the Alliance – could.” He sighed and got down to it, annoyed at himself for caving to her little game and at her for playing it to the end. “If you want to know what I believe in, there you have it. Money.

“And I thought I had that in common with Han here.”

“Don't worry, you do.”

“Does that reassure you?” Lando asked. “Devil you know, twice over?”

She smiled at him and laid out her hand. A pained expression passed over his face, quickly cleared away once more.

“It doesn't. But it does pay.”

***

“Did you mean all that?” Han asked.

Leia cocked her head at him as she straddled him. His chest was flushed, but his eyes were bright and sober. They'd had a lovely evening, all told. Lando was excellent company, despite his expression when they closed the door in his face to go to bed.

She still didn't trust him. She shared his value, though it was far down on her list. Money bought safety. It greased palms and sealed lips. It made fighting the Empire possible.

And it had led to more than one betrayal.

Lando promised in the morning he would win her over yet, show her the beauty of the clouds. Leia had an ominous pit in her stomach when she thought of that and knew in part it was because Han was right. It would be nice to stop running, even for a short time. It would be nice to trust more than one person at a time.  
“Back there, with Lando,” Han said as if that elucidated the question.  
She dipped her head down to kiss across his chest. He shivered as her hair swept across bare skin.

“Be more specific.”

“That all I believe in is money.”

Leia braced her hands on his shoulders, shimmying up just a bit to meet him in a kiss. He didn't refuse it, but didn't engage, unwilling to let go until she answered.

She broke the kiss and stayed close to him, skin against his.

“Did you mean it?”

He knew exactly what she meant. A couple of people make the Rebellion worthwhile. Not the cause. Not fighting for freedom of innocent people.

“I do,” he replied. “You do make it worthwhile.”

“Because you don't believe in the Alliance.”

Han gave a cynical chuckle. It always hurt to hear him talk about the Republic. He remembered it and he'd loved it, as a child. Even loved the Jedi heroes on the holonet.

He touched his fingers to her cheek, directing her back to kiss him.  
“I believe in a couple of people – I believe in you.”

“I know,” Leia whispered back.

She closed her eyes to kiss him.


End file.
